


and then she's gone again

by orphan_account



Series: just want your arms around me [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Air Force Brooke, Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Cheating, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, World War III, but ohhhh bohhy this is not very fluffy, this started out as a fluffy oneshot about brooke coming home from war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: World War Three has broken out, and Brooke has to leave for the front lines. Chloe stays behind, but it might've been better for her to go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke has to ship out to the front lines as World War 3 grows larger, and Chloe is forced to stay behind.
> 
> This, obviously, has some consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: has two ongoing multi-chaps and a multi-chap to write for a big bang 
> 
> me: yes, another multi-chap is a good idea

"I'm sorry, babe, but I have to. It's my duty," Brooke sighed, her voice nearly dragged away by the howling cold wind.

"Brooke, it's not! You can stay here, stay with me," Chloe protested, grabbing both of Brooke's hands and pressing them to her heart. "Please, baby, stay here for _me_."

"Chloe, I can't let this happen to my country. We might actually get invaded if I don't go now, and America isn't ready for an invasion, because we haven't been invaded recently, like the counties in Europe. The war never reached home last world war, or the one before that. I have to make sure it doesn't reach home, doesn't reach you. As it is, I want you to move away from New York, find someplace they probably won't bomb."

"Brooke, this isn't the time or place for dramatic movie-worthy speeches about your duty and me and everything! Remember in high school, back before Trump was impeached, when you and I were gonna run away to Sweden so we'd have net neutrality and freedom from Trump? Remember, baby?" Chloe pleaded desperately.

  
Brooke shook her head and smiled sadly, just about breaking Chloe's heart with the curl of her wind-chapped lips.

"I've already enlisted, Chloe, there's nothing I can do, anything you can do. We don't have enough money to pay the de-enlistment fees, and I can't risk unpaid service. We need the money."

"We can still run away, go to Ireland or Sweden, where no de-enlistment fees can reach us, and have three cats and two kids. Please, Brooke." Tears began to fall from Chloe's eyes, warm against her ice cold, pink cheeks in the New York winter.

Brooke teared up too, several drops of liquid falling from her face to the snow-covered ground, melting a tiny bit of it when they fell. Not enough to will away the winter, to will away World War Three, to will Brooke to stay.

"I can't, Chloe. I'm sorry." Brooke couldn't meet Chloe's eyes as she said it.

  
"All new recruits, this is your two minute warning! Git on the bus, or you'll be subject to fines and/or mandatory unpaid service," a loud, irritated female voice snapped over a bullhorn.

  
Brooke pulled Chloe in close, trying to feel her girlfriend's warmth from under her puffy jacket, and kissed her on the nose, and then slid down to her lips. She tasted like strawberry chapstick, salty tears, and snot, but it was passionate.

"One minute warning!"

Brooke pulled away regretfully, picking up her green cow-print duffel bag from the snow, and giving Chloe one last chaste, sweet, short kiss, barely touching her lips before pulling away.

"I'll be back," Brooke said, smiling to try and distract from the tears pouring down her cheeks. "Tell my mom I love her."

And then she stepped on the bus, the last person to get on, and didn't look back as the doors closed.

Chloe muffled a shriek in her heavy-duty mittens, sinking to the ground as she sobbed while the buses pulled away, she not daring look up to see if Brooke was watching her through the window, Brooke not daring look out the window for fear of beginning to sob herself.

She stayed there on the ground, crying, until a security guard ushered her and a couple other families out of the loading area and back into the bus station, and promptly kicked out on the other end.

Brooke was gone, to serve America and the Allies and keep Russia, China, Syria, Poland, North Korea, and Iran from ending the world.

And she'd left behind a shell of a girlfriend, parents who didn't even know she was gone, and a broken heart.

* * *

 

Chloe and Brooke didn't have much money saved, just enough for Chloe to be able to pay her part of rent on a six-room apartment, shared by two other people.

She opened the door with the key card that the lady she'd talked to had mailed her (the third such key, the first two had never arrived, which was understandable, mail was unreliable with the war going on) and immediately knew this was going to be a tough time.

It was cramped, cluttered with belongings, and she counted at least three vinyl record players, two cassette players, and four CD players plus eight Bluetooth speakers in the living room alone, and there were boxes everywhere.

A tall red headed girl was sitting with her legs sticking out on the living room floor, bright green headphones on as she stuck books of varying shapes and sizes into a box labelled 'books no. 15,' mouthing lyrics as she packed.

"Ahem," Chloe tutted loudly.

The girl looked up at her and moved to push her headphones down around her neck. "You must be the new roommate. Christine's out getting groceries and new blackout curtains, she'll be back before curfew, don't worry," she said. "Jenna's in her bedroom, I think she's 3D printing helmets for the National Guard soldiers."

"Oh, um... who're you?"

"Oh, I'm just Madeline, Madeline Smith. I'm moving out. I was supposed to be gone last weekend, but the movers bailed on me and rescheduled to Tuesday. I'll be gone then, for now you and I are sharing a room."

"Are you gonna have all this packed before then? I mean... wow."

"Oh, the Goodwill people are coming tomorrow to pick up pretty much all the stuff that isn't packed right now. I've used the Unpacked Pickup feature of the app way too many times in my life, but I intend to continue doing so," she said nonchalantly.

"Oh, got it."

"Anyway, the room is the first door to the left, the bathroom is just across the hall, second door. I'll be out here if you need me. Oh, and leave your ration card on the mantle, in the red box, whoever goes shopping uses all of them."

Chloe hightailed it out of there, into the hall, and then into the room. White walls and one big window with no blackout curtains, and mostly empty, save for a couple packed boxes and a tie-dye sleeping bag with a pillow without a case sitting primly atop it, an empty closet with some equally empty wire drawers and a couple plastic hangers, two bare floating shelves, and a cot with a bare mattress and a thin pillow, this one with a navy blue case, tossed haphazardly onto it. That bed was for her.

She shrugged off her backpack and set it on the cold hardwood floor and opened up her suitcase, retrieving her green and white striped sheets and pillow from the top of the pile, and set the pillows on the ground so she could sheet the bed. When she was done, she put the pillow case on her own pillow, set both pillows back on the bed, and retrieved her worn but reliable blue knit blanket from her backpack and spread it out as nicely as she could on the cot.

She unpacked her few clothes and set them in the closet, barely filling one wire drawer with her things, hanging up her two dresses and jacket, and then all she had were her few miscellaneous belongings. Her copy of Anna Karenina, a couple framed pictures, most of them featuring her and Brooke, but one of her parents as well and one of her high school best friend, Jackie Spencer. Some notebooks, her jewellery box, headphones, laptop, the box that she kept stationery and Brooke's letters in, and some other miscellaneous items.

Once everything was unpacked, she retrieved her jewellery box from the dresser and sank down onto the edge of the bed with it. 

It was made of good strong oak, painted silver, with a small matching padlock. The key looked to be among the glitter in her waterfall phone case, along with a couple other decorative keys, but in actuality, it was in a separate compartment behind the glitter. Paper-thin, just wide enough for her tiniest keys. Two keys were stored in there, and she shook out both, and used the gold one to unlock the box.

Inside, there were various necklaces, pairs of earrings, bracelets, the usual stuff, but Chloe was focused on two things in particular.

Two necklaces, one on a dainty silver chain that was a silver origami bird, and another, a simple, thick gold square with a tiny diamond in the centre, hanging on a gold chain slightly thicker than the silver necklace. If you looked on the underside of the square, you could see a keyhole, and that's where Chloe put the other key, this one silver as an additional decoy measure.

Inside, there was a tiny picture of the two of them, one summer afternoon at the county fair. Brooke's mom had taken it candid, and sent it to them later. They were laughing together, both holding paper cones piled high with cotton candy, Chloe's pink and Brooke's purple, and the sun was caught in their hair, bringing out Chloe's auburn undertones and making Brooke's blonde hair look like spun gold. 

There was also a tiny folded up piece of paper that Chloe unfolded now.

It was a contract, of sorts, that they'd made at the beginning of their relationship. Written in peacock green calligraphy pen on copier paper, copied from a messier version on lined paper that Chloe had in the letter box.

**_Relationship Contract of Chloe Amanda Valentine and Brooke Naomi Lohst:_ **

**_1\. There will be semi-regular trips to Pinkberry._ **

**_2\. There will be dates at least thrice a month, weather dependant._ **

**_3\. Chloe will not be a bitch to anyone who flirts with Brooke._ **

**_4\. No cheating!_ **

**_5\. Holiday and birthday presents should not be taken too seriously, gift cards, cuddles, & kisses will suffice._ **

**_6\. Brooke promises to participate in Public Displays Of Affection (PDA.) This includes hand-holding, public kissing, making out in the bathrooms and/or against the lockers_ ** **_, and gay hugs._ **

**_7\. No secrets, unless about presents, but do see number 5._ **

**_Signed into law on this day, May 17th, 2018, Queens, New York City, New York, United States Of America, North America, Planet Earth, Milky Way Galaxy, Universe One._ **

Under that, she and Brooke had both signed in sharpie, and as Chloe remembered how much fun they'd had making this list, she also found herself trying not to dirty it up with tears, and having to fold it up, place it back in the locket, and snap it closed, before putting it around her neck and checking the time on her phone

4:29 PM. 

10:29 in France.

She watched the clock move up to the 9, 10, 11...

4:30 PM.

She gently kissed the diamond and raised the locket up, in a salute sort of way. Halfway across the world, Brooke was doing the same, as long as she wasn't dead yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i came up with this while trying to think up oneshot ideas to get bmc on the top of my fandoms list, so let's set out this au and story, since this is a series:
> 
> this obviously, is the first work. any prequels will be listed after this. this is all chloe’s POV, what she does while brooke’s at war. work two, no matter what order any one-shots for the series are posted, will be Brooke's experiences at war. both of the multi-chaps for the universe begin in 2022.
> 
> no boyf riends.
> 
> there will likely be oneshots in the series to fill in any resultant cracks. the series name is from Send Me No Flowers, by The Supremes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe’s first night in the apartment, and her first Christmas Eve without Brooke.

Chloe’s first night in the apartment.

 

She hadn’t put on pajamas. She hadn’t felt like it. She just laid there, reading a book, until Madeline came to bed, which is when she’d put it away.

 

After she’d gotten ready for bed, Madeline had offered her an extra blanket, saying that it got chilly in the room, and Chloe has turned her down. Madeline had, at least, left it folded at the foot of her bed, in case she wanted it later.

 

She’d glanced up at Chloe as she’d done that, with not sympathy or pity, but with a ‘trust me’ expression.

 

And then she’d immediately snuggled down and went right to sleep.

 

And Chloe?

 

She just kinda laid there. She didn’t play on her phone, she didn’t read a book, she just stared up at the ceiling, wanting so badly to feel Brooke’s arms around her, her hair on her face, hear her snuffling as she slept.

 

Why hadn’t she been able to enlist? It wasn’t fair that only Brooke went. She’d tried to enlist with her, but she’d been turned down on the basis that they needed spouses to fill the jobs their partners left behind.

 

It was torture, when Brooke got back her approved enlistment form. She’d seen something she’d never seen in Brooke before that day.

 

Brooke was just a sweet, tiny girl. Innocent, vulnerable.

 

And she was now just outside the part of France that China currently occupied. Sleeping in mud and grime and dust. There was a lot of flooding in Western Europe right now, and so, not only was she in a warzone, she was knee deep in mud.

 

But Brooke could handle that.

 

When she’d opened up the letter and Chloe had begun to cry, she’d just stared stonily into space, with an unreadable expression. She’d then braided her hair, which she never did, and made dinner, robotically. So silent.

 

And she’d acted normal the next day! But that night, she was so silent, so unreadable, so... so off.

 

Even when they’d had sex that night. She was almost unresponsive and robotic and Chloe had to make her stop.

 

And the next morning, as she’d ridden the subway to work, she realised that that was how Brooke would survive.

 

She’d just be unresponsive, robotic, silent.

 

But would that be the end of her? Or would she come back like that, and always be like that?

 

Or be someone else entirely?

 

She didn’t know, and that’s why she hadn’t slept one millisecond that night. There was no way.

 

Stupid world leaders. Why oh why couldn’t they have settled this without a war? Or spared Brooke, at least?

 

What if she’d enlisted first? Would she be there, in the mud and miserable conditions, and Brooke would be in this bed? Or somewhere different?

 

And here she was. In a bed, under a roof, no mud, dry, safe (in theory).

 

And here she was, while Brooke, her love was in that mud, that crap hole, and she was complaining.

 

So, thanks, world, for making all this happen, or whatever.

 

The next morning, Madeline made pain au chocolat for everyone, flashing Chloe a small smile.

 

So far, she still hadn’t seen anyone else besides Madeline, who was leaving today.

 

But the smell of freshly baked goods seemed to draw people out, because she had just gingerly sat down at the table when a short girl padded down the hall and into the kitchen, and Chloe had dropped her pastry onto her plate.

 

Because this woman was... attractive, to say the least of it. She was short, chubby, with glossy, shoulder length black hair, deep, velvety brown eyes.

 

And they were staring right at her.

 

“Oh, you must be Chloe! Merry Christmas Eve!”

 

Right, it was Christmas Eve. After it’d turned out that Brooke would ship out right before Christmas, she buried any thought of Christmas into the back of her mind.

 

The woman must’ve sensed what she was feeling, because she grabbed a pain au chocolat from the kitchen and sat across from her at the table, taking a bite and then taking Chloe’s hands in her own, comfortingly. “I know how you feel. One of my best friends is stationed somewhere in France right now. I remember from the interview that you had someone going over, can I ask who?”

 

“Brooke, her name’s Brooke. She’s my girlfriend. She’s in France too.”

 

The woman’s face changed from understanding pity to more of a wince of pity.

 

“Oh. I’m so sorry about that.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“Well, in case you forgot, I’m Christine. Don’t worry, I’m terrible with names too, but you’re... Zoey, right?”

 

Chloe laughed sadly. “Chloe. Nice to meet you, Christine.”

 

“I hope we can be good friends. Since you’re new to this town, just wanna let you know that curfew on holidays and almost-holidays like this is five in the afternoon, but usually, it’s eight.”

 

“And don’t worry, I’m about to leave, you won’t have me crowding things for Christmas,” Madeline joked from the kitchen.

 

“Maddie, you know that we’re going to miss you. A lot,” Christine responded, head turning to the redhead.

 

Madeline shrugged. “I’ll be with my family for Christmas until I go to Oregon with David, and you know this apartment is too small for four of us.”

 

Christine and Madeline kept up the back and forth, and Chloe tuned them out for awhile, finishing her pastry and washing her plate, careful to use only a tiny amount of water.

 

But after a while, Madeline went to go take a shower before she left, and Christine turned back to Chloe. “There’s a little Christmas Eve concert in Heifer Square in a few hours, since I’m dropping Maddie off at the train station anyway, wanna come? Jenna’s in in the concert. Oh, did you meet Jenna last night, or no? I know that she was sewing socks for the soldierslast night while I was out shopping, but I don’t know if-“

 

“No, I didn’t meet her.”

 

“Well then, come to the concert. It’ll be fun!”

 

-

 

And that’s how Chloe ended up on an Uber scooter, scooting down to the train station with Madeline and Christine on bikes next to her, carrying most of Madeline’s luggage. All that Chloe could help carry while on a scooter was a backpack.

 

At the train station, they dropped off the luggage, and at the platform, Madeline and Chloe exchanged email addresses, though they knew that they likely wouldn’t actually use them, Christine hugged Madeline, and then she took the backpack off Chloe and stepped onto the train.

 

And then she was gone. In an instant, their lives had touched and now, their grains of sand on the great beach of life had moved apart as a young child began to build a sandcastle.

 

Just like Brooke, except that she had barely known Madeline, and she was so close to Brooke.

 

So just like Brooke, but not at all like Brooke.

 

-

 

The town, as little as it was, did have a lively concert. Everyone was told that they were encouraged to dance, and then the band had started up a lively song.

 

A lot of the people were dressed old-fashioned, and Chloe guessed it was some sort of tradition. Christine had pulled her hair up into a Gibson Girl style before they left, but was wearing a very 21st century outfit, with a white on blue polka dotted dress, white leggings, and grey Uggs, with a grey peacoat on top.

 

And there was Chloe, in her black winter coat, jeans, and hair in a ponytail.

 

Imagining Brooke’s arms around hers as they danced around their living room, Brooke softly singing Auld Lang Syne as they floated, just last year.

 

How her heart ached to be back there, in that cozy apartment, back in Queens, carefree and warm.

 

No Irish jig-style version of All I Want For Christmas Is You could stop the tears from falling.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, yeah, im not gonna sugarcoat it, i totally abandoned this. after the holidays im going to start really getting down and gritty and prewriting chapters for all my multi-chaps, and updating regularly. stay tuned for that, also stay tuned for a stagedorks holidays oneshot going up later today (if i can finish it today) a deh christmas oneshot going up tomorrow. 
> 
> happy hanukkah (belated) for anyone who celebrates it, happy yule if i have any pagan/wiccan/witch readers (im one of those witches. wait, i don’t count because I’m the author? sksksk), merry christmas, and happy kwanzaa. also, wear your seatbelts, lovelies!
> 
> \- devin


End file.
